


Montagues & Capulets

by SuspenDisbelief



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Post Civil War, pre infinity wars, shifting pov, starcrossed lovers like what, stolen moments type fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-06 21:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14656428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuspenDisbelief/pseuds/SuspenDisbelief
Summary: Apologies, forgiveness and an inexplicable, irrational desire for stolen moments across the spanning tension between the divided Avengers. Vision and Scarlet Witch in the wake of Civil War, leading up to the events of Infinity Wars. This fic is brought to you in celebration of my new tumblr account linked to this ao3, details inside!





	1. Chapter 1

He was not behaving rationally. He knew this. Vision had signed his name, his allegiance, to the human race as a whole; protecting Earth as they saw fit under the authority of their United Nations. That fact dictated that his motivations and behaviours in his role as an Avenger should have been toward that goal. When he volunteered for UN sanctioned assignments; patrols, surveillance, escorts, no task too small to expend his generous reservoirs of energy… The common thread was not his desire to do the optimal good for humanity as was within his capacity; it was to be as far flung around the globe as possible. When it came to the hunt for the rogue enhanced individuals, particularly the former Avengers, he would chase the smallest rumour and investigate the flimsiest tip.

 

Vision signed the Sokovia Accord and was duty-bound to the United Nations against those who did not. Vision wanted to see Wanda Maximoff again more than anything.

 

Vision wanted to see Wanda free in the world, happy and unafraid. He was wrong to confine her, to expect her to reduce herself to make others comfortable. She was so radiant the last time they had seen each other in person, locked in brutal conflict. In the aftermath he had seen footage of her in chains, limp and sickly. That is how small the world would shrink her if they could and he wanted no part in that. That was not righteousness or justice. Tony Stark had a secret phone from the Captain. Tony Stark had signed the Accord. Tony Stark didn’t interfere with the breakout on the Raft. Tony Stark, Vision knew better than anyone, wanted to protect the Earth. There were shades of grey here. So Vision behaved irrationally and embraced the urge to seek out the Scarlet Witch everywhere he went, following whispers and shadows.

 

He first found her while in the middle of disrupting an arms deal in Andorra. Or, rather she found him. Vision had shed his disguise at this point, the bullets were flying the minute that he had phased the payload out of the Stark rockets, nearly a decade out of production, but still moving through the twists and alleys of the black market. Vision was preparing himself for another barrage from the mercenaries, when a familiar vibration of energy surrounded him in a crimson light. The expected bullets didn’t make it close and in the next second, he watched as the dozens of adversaries slumped forward, unconscious, with their guns dropping to the concrete warehouse floor with an echoing clatter.

 

The force field around him faded as quickly as it was produced and Vision spun to find Wanda, her presence the only conclusion given the evidence of that particular energy that he had begun to associate with a swooping feeling in the pit of his abdomen. She was out of sight. He probed the area with his other senses, but either she was already long gone or her ability to mask her powerful psychic presence was growing. He hoped it was the latter. Even if she was hiding herself from him, at least it would help keep her safe.

 

“Wanda?” He tried calling for her out loud. There was a plea in his voice that he had not anticipated and had certainly not utilized on purpose. There was a light foot fall behind him and Vision spun to see Wanda’s silhouette outlined in the glow of the streetlights streaming in through the open warehouse door. She didn’t come closer, but he could feel the gentle probing of her powers on the edges of his consciousness. There was hesitancy. There was fear. His heart, thread together with vibranium or not, ached to know that Wanda considered him worthy of her caution.

  


_I was wrong._ He pushed the thought out to her, his remorse and his… care with it.

  


And.

  


_I’m so sorry._ Did he deserve her forgiveness? Even more so, would that warrant him to be around her again, in her presence and sharing her company? The thought that he was duty-bound to arrest her buzzed like an annoying fly in the back of his mental processes.

  


Wanda’s shadowed form turned in the doorway and she broke into a sprint out into the night, the yellow glare of artificial lights revealing a blood red jacket and streaming cascades of dark curls. He reached out after her, with his mind and his extended hand, but Vision let her go and allowed the silence and the fading vibrations of her powers serve as his answer.


	2. Chapter 2

It was an out of the way dinner, attached to a gas station on a trucking route off the main highway in upstate New York. Wanda had never even given the place a second thought during the time she spent living at the Avengers facility, even though someone sitting on the patio on a clear day had a unobstructed view of the air space above the base’s training grounds. Tuesday and Thursdays from 0700 to 1200 hours was aerial evasion maneuvers. She couldn’t help but grin into her mug of tea as she watched the speck that was Vision in the distance twirling gracefully around fictitious obstacles, hopelessly charmed by his dedication to his “optimized combat enhancement schedule”.  Grins were not common on Wanda’s face as of late. Wanda was bitter towards the governmental goons that had thrown her, _restrained her_ , in that hellhole. She was angry at Tony Stark, because honestly when wasn’t she still a little angry with Tony Stark in a deep place in her heart. She felt… loss when she thought of how things had happened with Vision. She felt regret.

 

Ever since she saw him in Europe… Well his apology and the _feelings_ she could sense along with it, that was one thing, but what Wanda couldn’t stop remembering was the intense rush of protectiveness she felt when she saw him alone standing between an army of brutes and an expansive weapons cache. Floating outside the empty warehouse on that quiet street and staring through the second story windows, she channeled the excited flow of adrenaline rushing through her veins into a strong push of her glowing scarlet aura.

 

With a flick of her left hand, she enveloped Vision in a protective forcefield just as a smattering of bullets was heading his way. At the same time, with her right she pushed a tendril of her thoughts into the minds of all the mercenaries and compelled them to sleep. Wanda had been training, consulting with the greatest psychics and most talented magic-users she could find, but even she was impressed with the speed and ease with which she was able to manage the situation. The way she was able to use her powers to protect.

 

She could feel when Vision searched for her with his mind. She was able to use that probing thought to gently feel at his intentions without him becoming aware of her presence. Wanda had followed his movements very carefully since her escape. Vision was more active than any officially sanctioned Avenger in the search for rogue enhanced. Her heart panged to see him in grainy videos on the internet and now he was here, so close and in person…

 

“Wanda?”

 

There was no ill-intent that she could sense in him. Just her own anticipation reflected back from his familiar expansive mind. She landed at the open doorway and opened her barriers to him, just a bit, as words failed her. And then Wanda ran, because as often as she had imagined the day that Vision would finally find her and the others, she hadn’t dared to hope to prepare herself for the situation where he missed her just as much as she had been missing him. So, after months of looking over her shoulder and being disappointed to see no one there, Wanda found herself sitting on the patio of a dinner in upstate New York, sipping tea on a Thursday morning as she watched Vision train. Or, at this distance, maybe felt Vision train was more accurate. For the naked eye, he really was small enough to mistake for a remote-control plane or drone, but Wanda had been able to sense his familiar bright yellow aura from the moment she got off the plane in JFK. At this distance, she could get an echo of the swooping feeling in the pit of his stomach as he dived sharply, while still keeping her mind cloaked. Her own belly flipped as she exhaled and lowered her mental defences. She had to decide right now if she trusted Vision, the nightmares of her captivity a brutal reminder of the stakes at play.

 

 _Hello._ Wanda opened the channel between their minds, letting her view of him from the dinner slip through the connection. And then she waited, her heart thumping in her chest, trying not to spy too closely as a myriad of emotions composed Vision’s reaction to her sudden appearance.

 

 _Are you able to wait twenty minutes?_ He replied. Wanda glance down to her watch. 11:40 am blinked up at her from the digital face. Aerial evasive maneuvers until 1200 hours.

 

_Of course._


	3. Chapter 3

Vision completed his pre-coordinated set of drills as if on autopilot. Indeed, well over 70% of his mind’s processing capabilities were focused on some thought concerning Wanda as she waited for him at an establishment 3.7 kilometres due north-north-east of his present location; either considering the various implications of her sudden arrival, monitoring the gentle connection she maintained between their minds that just consisted of the warm sensation of her powers at the edge of his consciousness, or maintaining a similarly light and steady connection from his mind back to her’s.

 

“Hey!” There was a snap in front of Vision’s eyes and he once more focused on his present visual inputs in order to see Tony Stark flicking his fingers directly in front of him. Careless. Distracted. “Earth to the Vizh, come in…,” Tony paused, with the intent to raise intrigue for a farcical audience, raising one eyebrow over his aviator eye-ware. As was Tony’s way. “… the Vizh.”

 

“Apologies, Tony.” Vision nodded his head in a gesture of regret and stepped to the side to allow his teammate into the lift. Tony flicked his hand dismissively, as he raised his sunglasses over his forehead and ducked down to press the already aglow ‘M’ button.

 

“Heading downtown to the meeting with Darth Ross?”

 

“I am rarely invited to such gatherings by Secretary Ross.” Vision replied, the majority of his mental faculties retuning their attention to Wanda’s nearby presence. Tony rocked back and forth on his heels exactly eight times before speaking again.

 

“So where ya’ going?” The man asked, adopting a particularly childish tone. Vision faltered, only a microsecond of processing time, but it was an anomaly worth noting nonetheless. As an Avenger a liaison with a fugitive would be… frowned upon, to say the very least. But an equal, no, a _stronger_ compulsion led him to a different conclusion which motivated his associated behaviour.

“I’m signing out for a personal lunch.” Vision replied simply. Tony blinked as the lift door opened with a cheerful ‘ping’.

 

“Oh?” Tony seemed puzzled as Vision strode past him at an oh-so-carefully maintained pace. “That’s… interesting.”

 

Once clear of the security staff, Vision launched himself far out of the reach of the cameras and satellites surveying the facility, before spinning himself around and coming in low behind the dinner where Wanda’s crimson energy drew him like a beacon. He phased into his standard-human appearance before emerging around the corner and entering the establishment. He could feel her as he approached nearer step-by-step, but at the first sight of the nape of her neck Vision could feel his body react with the same hum it exhibited during imminent danger.

 

“Hello, Vizh.” Wanda stood, sensing his approach, and turned to him. With all of his studies into human behaviour, Vision would never have predicted that Wanda would greet him with a sweet, if not tentative, smile and her arms lifted in a half-heated gesture. If Wanda was comfortable with it, he thought as he moved in quick to wrap himself around her, he would give her any type of social interaction she desired. “Oo-oh!” She exclaimed and Vision slackened his grip, only a fraction at first, and then stepped back to look at her fully before she descended back into her seat. Her hair, darker than he remembered it being before, was tied up high and she wore dark, insect-like sunglasses which covered half of her face.

 

“Wanda-“ Vision began sitting down across from her, ready to restate his apology out loud and to accept whatever reprimand he had been so sure, until that peace-offering of an embrace, was waiting for him.

 

“I know you’re regretful.” Wanda interrupted in a clear tone, “I felt it. Before when, well, I hadn’t expected it, but I do believe it.”

 

“Oh-” Vision began again, this entire conversation giving him the strangest sensation of being tilted sideways as parameters and estimated reactions and predicted scripts shifted and deleted.

 

“There are things, I suppose, that I could apologize for too.” Wanda continued, her eyes darting across the empty tables surrounding them before leaning in close. “I did throw you through a building.” She was looking at him earnestly, but an unexpected bubble of laughter rose in Vision’s chest. This emotion business truly was a madness, part of him thought.

 

“Wanda,” He sighed and gathered her hands in his strange pale fingers, “It doesn’t compare.”

 

“Oh, you have the market cornered on apologies, yes? I say we call this whole thing over and done with! I’ve missed you, Vision. I miss telling you about my days! I’ve been training and learning and seeing so much. You’re the first one I want to call and it feels ridiculous when we’re both fine and _healthy_ …” Vision squeezed her hand.

 

“I’ve missed you too, Wanda.” It seemed like the most pertinent information, the greatest truth he could give her. No other longwinded story about his missions and research and how it was all for her could sum it up quite as well. They sat in the lingering warmth of their resolution when the Vision noticed, with all his focus sharpening to the space directly in front of him, that they were both grinning in silence into each other’s eyes over a cold mug of tea. Wanda must’ve had a similar thought, he realized without having to read her mind, because her smile grew and her cheeks crinkled and Vision felt absolution.


	4. Chapter 4

Wanda stayed in New York, the city proper where one’s face could easily blend into the countless others, for three more weeks. There was a regular check-in between the former Avengers over secure tech supplied by T’Challa and his funny little sister Shuri; Wanda reported back tales about how her training with Strange and the other Sorcerers filled her days. It was only a little lie, she thought. If she kept the evenings exploring quiet corners of the usually unceasing throb of the city with Vision, well… That was her business, was it not?

 

“Will you get in trouble? If they find out that you’ve gone?” She had asked him, when he suggested it during their meeting at the dinner.

 

“Unless told otherwise, I assume I have the same right to a personal life as anyone else at the facility.” He had replied, a bit defensively, and Wanda had smiled at him then, thrilled at his assertion of himself and thrilled that it had been asserted for her sake. It was what she had hoped for when Clint had come for her, clung to until _I can’t let you_ , and now…

 

Most evenings during her stay, when he could slip away, Vision would send her the sense of his impending arrival long before the yellow cab would drop a tall blond man at the steps of the Sanctum. They stayed away from crowds, sticking to park trails and nondescript paths around the winding maze of towers. Their precautions were for a practical purpose, but Wanda couldn’t help but feel grateful for their seclusion; normally she found herself isolated when away from the rest of her team, but with Vision the solitude felt more similar to a comforting blanket. At first, they would talk for hours, walking fearlessly into the small hours of the morning on Manhattan streets, telling stories to catch each other up on the last months. Wanda shared the training she had been seeking, with every teacher she could find, in her quest to control her powers.

 

“You were very strong.” Vision noted. Wanda must’ve have looked up at him in confusion, as he continued abruptly, “In Andorra la Vella, you non-lethally took out a large group of combat specialists in a matter of seconds. While holding a forcefield.”

 

“And flying.” Wanda added with a shrug, a cheeky smirk upon her lips. Vision’s eyebrows rose in shock, but his proud smile in return made her chest bloom.

 

Some nights, though, some nights they would just walk and _feel_ , hands hovering centimetres apart at their sides. Wanda wondered what Vision would think if she reached over and clasped their fingers together. What he would think if, at the end of the night when he dropped her once again at the stone steps, she asked him inside? The way he felt walking beside her, as the sun dropped to the horizon and the warm reds of the fading daylight shifted into the blues and buzzing lights of the night, was so content and _pleased_ to be with her. It made Wanda feel like there was something about her, just her, that was that special. It made Wanda feel like the was something about her that was that normal.

 

If she were to ask Vision to stay longer, he would be kind, very kind. He would very kindly tell her all the very logical reasons that she was acting foolishly and then their easy companionship for this too short time would be ruined. And so, she would say goodnight and Vision would go. During the following evening, if he was unable to come to her due to some meeting or training or experiment, she would curse her previous night’s cowardice.

 

And then Wanda had a flight booked for the next morning. Natasha was getting nervous.

 

“Tony’s got those suits buzzing in and out of Queens like a personal messenger service. Guys with metal wings, weapons turning up…I don’t like it, Wanda. I think it’s time to come back in.”

 

As far as Wanda was concerned Natasha was always nervous. But she also always kept them all safe.

 

The light was getting low in the sky and Wanda’s heart started to race at the thought that tonight, of all nights, he wouldn’t make it. She paced from one end of the room to the other, tossing around her sparse belongings, her luggage laid open and nearly packed by the foot of her bed. Wanda paused and settled herself against the window overlooking a back alley lined with rubbish bins, letting her cheek rest against the cool glass. She stared out at the moon, just visible through the haze of lights far below, when she was overwhelmed by the sensation of wind whipping past and an image of her own form reflected back and getting closer…

 

Wanda unlatched the window and stepped sideways, allowing a flash of crimson and blue to careen into her temporary quarters and come to an unsettlingly sudden stop. She could only blink up at him as Vision rotated to face her and glided down until his feet touched the floor. It had been so, so long since Wanda had truly seen the Vision’s form, her awe so complete that she only had the faintest idea that her hand was raising up to let her outstretched hand cradle the beautiful intricate threads of silver and wine that made up his jaw.

 

“I’m sorry,” He began, his head tilting deeper into her palm. Vision was weary, it suddenly struck her, fatigue radiating off him like a vapour. She stepped back and noticed the dirt and soot and…

 

“Is that blood?” Wanda heard herself shriek, her eyes flickering over Vision’s form for the panicked moment she forgot that he did not bleed.

 

“There was a rescue operation.” He explained with a bashful smile, “A successful one, at that.” Wanda nodded, relieved.

 

“I’m glad you’re here now.” She said as she approached him again, her hand hovering above the small of his back to ease him gently to sit on the firm mattress. Vision was malleable tonight, his aura soft.

 

“I will miss you when you leave, Wanda.” Vision stated quietly, in that matter-of-fact way of his that left no doubt of his absolute sincerity. “And I believe that you will miss me as well. Am I wrong?”

 

“No Vision,” Wanda said shaking her head with a sigh, “You are not wrong.” Vision smiled back at her with a brilliant warmth.

 

“I would very much like for us to continue seeing each other.”

 

“Vision…” Wanda blinked up at him as she processed the concept. The idea that this was going to be the last time, at the least, for a very long time. But, what if? Wanda grabbed Vision’s hands in her own and brought them to her lips. “I can make that happen.” She would ask Shuri and they would find a way. He nodded at her words, but his bright eyes were focused where his skin and her lips were only centimetres apart. “Vision?” Wanda began, her heart beat pounding out a rapid beat, “Can you stay with me tonight?”

 

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Dr. Strange know what's going on in his house?
> 
> Yes.
> 
> Does he give a single fuck?
> 
> Probably not.


	5. Chapter 5

Vision sat in a dark theatre surrounded by a handful of strangers at a weekday matinee. It was the day before he was being sent on assignment and protocol dictated that training activities be suspended in preparation to avoid undue physical exhaustion. Not that such concerns applied to Vision, but the facility had been making him restless of late, half-empty and under-simulating, so without much thought he had assumed his standard-human appearance and departed into town. Besides, given his new habit of falling out of reach every few weeks, it suited Vision to appear to have personal interests and hobbies that did not involve clandestine visits with Wanda.

 

Since her extended trip to New York, Vision and Wanda had been able to meet for coffee in a small village in Spain by taking grand detours from their respective journeys. Then they arranged to explore the Getty when Wanda had a twelve-hour layover at the LAX. Vision had even helped her dye her hair from the fading black to a splotchy ash blonde in an hotel room in Thailand after Natasha advised her to alter her appearance once more. Wanda had grimaced in the mirror at the result and Vision took her out to walk along the quiet beach until she cheered up, the moon reflecting off her new pale hair giving her a glow that was a soft silvery estimation of her usual scarlet radiance. In any form she took, Wanda reminded Vision of a figure from myth and antiquity, something human and then beyond. Why she would choose to spend her time with a thing that was less than human was a question Vision had not sought to answer, lest he be able to argue his own ever-growing sense of happiness away.

 

Even with this upcoming assignment, Vision thought to himself as he habitually observed his surroundings in the theatre, he was already planning past the simple recon to when he could make contact with Wanda over their secure network and rush to where ever she was. The film he was attending was worth making note of, it had been one Wanda had mentioned seeing the last time they had gotten a chance to speak and he had intended to be able to discuss the plotline and themes with her upon their next rendezvous, but Vision found himself distracted by a couple seated two rows in front of him, foreheads drawn close and leaning into each other.

 

The pose triggered a well-worn synapse that flooded him with a cascade of memories from Wanda’s last night in New York, when she had asked him to stay with her; how her brow rested gentle and warm against his as they lay facing each other, talking softly until her eyes had fluttered shut and her breath flowed over his cheeks in steady puffs. The individuals currently in front of him closed the gap between themselves with a brief meeting of their lips, a chaste press that gave the impression of a much deeper intimacy. Vision had found himself utterly fascinated by complexity of interpersonal relationships as of late. He had colleagues, teammates, friends… each with a different level and, he struggled for the appropriate descriptor, perhaps _flavour_ of feelings directed towards each category. And then he had Wanda, who held a place in his esteem shared by no other.

 

Vision thought, as the couple turned their attention back to the flashing screen in front of them all, that he would very much like to try a kiss. He thought about how there were two types of regret that he had felt the morning that he helped Wanda load her suitcase into a cab and said goodbye with nothing more than a promise to see each other again soon and a tender smile. He was experiencing the general regret that she must leave and that he would soon be overcome with missing her once more, but also Vision could feel an acute pang that there was something he should have done, an action he could have taken, as she departed to assure her of his continued affection. It struck him, watching Tony and Pepper lingering at the main exit the next week after one of the CEO’s lunch visits, that maybe he should have kissed her.

 

Next time, he had told himself. And continued to tell himself since, their brief meetings never seeming to lend themselves to Vision’s romantic overtures. An image of Wanda, glowing on the sand that night in Thailand, entered his mind unbidden and Vision had an uncomfortable suspicion that he had fallen into that confounding human habit of procrastination at the thought of her voicing any number of reasonable objections to this whole kissing concept. That would not do; rejection, while most likely deeply unpleasant, should be survivable. Next time, Vision assured himself, the very next time he saw Wanda he would ask her if he may kiss her.

**Author's Note:**

> I've missed ranting about nerdy things on the internet, so I came back to tumblr to make a pure fandom account that I will associate with this ao3 account. In celebration of the this glorious return to wasting time on the internet, chapters of "Montagues & Capulets" will be posted in advance over on the tumblog, so stay ahead of the action by following along at https://theolsuspendisbelief.tumblr.com/tagged/montagues-and-capulets .
> 
> Comments and kuodoseseseses appreciated. :D


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